Time After Time
by Antigone2
Summary: It had taken nothing short of a miracle to get her into Azabu - barely passing grades, an extraordinary letter of recommendation and her father's check-writing hand. Now she realizes, heart hammering in her chest, this is most undoubtably a monumental mistake. UsaMamo, High School AU
1. Chapter 1

This is one of my "month of AUs" that got a burst of inspiration and became it's own story! The AU prompt was "high school best friends" which is something I have a lot of trouble picturing with my OTP, but I tweaked it until I could "see" it, and this is what came out of it!  
I hope you enjoy this new experiment of mine! Thanks as always to my "bae-ta" Irritablevowel! (hearts hearts)

* * *

It's hard not to be nervous. Usagi pulls the starched pleats of her skirt away from her sweaty legs - it's unseasonably warm for October, the air is thick with the promise of downpour later. Moto Azabu Private High School rises before her like a monolith - so much more intimidating than the comforting halls of Juuban High, where she'd been attending since April.

It had taken nothing short of a miracle to get her into Azabu - barely passing grades, an extraordinary letter of recommendation and her father's check-writing hand. Now she realizes, heart hammering in her chest, this is most undoubtably a monumental mistake. Except for-

"Hi!" a cheerful voice bubbles at her ear, interrupting her thoughts. "You must be Tsukino, our new transfer!" A girl who can only be described as a blonde bombshell is holding out her hand to Usagi, a big grin on her gorgeous face. "I'm Aino Minako. Welcome to Azabu, I'm here to show you around."

Aino - or Minako, as she immediately instructs Usagi to call her - is class leader in Year 1 D class, which is where Usagi is also placed. It's for the kids who don't excel, Usagi knows, although she doesn't say it and neither does Minako. The point is, the blonde says, to be good at one thing, if you can't be at all of them like the A class kids. She's there on an English language scholarship and is captain of the volleyball team.

Usagi thinks of the letter from her art teacher and the sketchbook tucked away in her messenger bag. She wonders if her one thing is good enough, when she can barely add numbers in head, and English might as well be ancient Greek. Minako is chatting away, and Usagi's ears prick at the current topic of conversation.

"-as our student body president," she finished. Minako gestures out the window, where the boys soccer club is finishing up its morning practice in the courtyard below. A fair number of students are watching from the sidelines, all girls.

Although she hasn't seen him in years, Usagi picks out Mamoru right away, tall and slim but broad shouldered. He kicks the ball to a teammate and wipes at his forehead with his arm, swiping at the black hair feathering into his face.

"Chiba Mamoru," Usagi says, feeling her heart in her throat again.

"Yeah," Minako says, "3rd year." She glances at Usagi, amused. "Not you too," she says.

Confused, Usagi opens her mouth but never has a chance to ask Minako to clarify. And soon, as practice comes to an end, she doesn't need to.

"Chiba!" "Chiba, you did so great!" "Do you need a water?" "How about a towel?!" It seems the jumble of female students are out to support their president, rather than the entire team. They surround him as soon as he steps off the field, despite his awkward attempts to politely shrug them off.

"He has a fanclub," Usagi says, needlessly. Of course he does, she thinks, heart sinking to her knees. Far cry from the awkward, crying child she'd given the rose to all those years ago, when she was visiting the hospital for Shingo's birth. The same little boy who was bullied mercilessly from other kids for being an orphan, the one Usagi had sworn to protect (and had, her little 4-year-old chubby self standing up to boys three years her senior, telling them they'd better pick on someone other than her Mamo-chan, or she'd punish them in the name of the moon!). "I should've known."

Minako looked at her curiously. "Do you know him?"

Usagi opens her mouth and closes it again, trying to find words to describe dried tears and skinned knees, clasped hands and giggled inside jokes, the trees in the park becoming castle fortresses (he as the prince, she as the princess and they always beat the evil witch together), an early childhood as close as siblings.

That is, until Usagi's father's magazine makes it big, and the Tsukinos up and move to the rich side of town. The eight-year-old Mamoru promised five-year-old Usagi one day he'd come back and marry her. But he lived in a children's home, and she was too young to write him without her parents help - they were far from interested in helping her.

But she remembers him, all these years later. And when she reads about him being elected student body president in the Azabu newsletter she swipes from her building lobby, she becomes bound and determined to attend Azabu high.

Still, Usagi wonders now, as Mamoru enters the school trailed by - it seems - every girl in existence, does he remember her?

"I used to know him," Usagi tells Minako, finally.

* * *

By the time the last bell rings, Usagi feels like her brain could melt out of her ears. Even in class D, the subjects are challenging and, she feels out of her league. But at least it is finally time to clean the classroom and then go to clubs - and she's looking forward to relaxing a bit while sketching in art club.

Then, it's Minako barging into the classroom, tugging Mamoru along by his the sleeve of his uniform. "Hey, class president. Our newest student says she used to know you!" The blonde gives him a sidelong glance and then a wink at Usagi. It's clear Minako thinks she's done Usagi some sort of favor, but the smaller blonde feels rooted to spot under the shocked scrutiny of Mamoru's dark blue eyes.

For a moment there is a charged silence, and Usagi is acutely aware of the the audience they have - the other students' low murmurs and quiet giggles. _Who does this new girl think she is?_ Usagi can almost hear their thoughts. _What a silly way to get the student president to notice her..._

Because he is, she can't help but notice, extraordinarily handsome. He'd always been a beautiful little boy - the source of some of the bullying, she remembers - his delicate, perfectly aligned features and shocking blue eyes. But now, apparently, it worked to his favor. Puberty definitely did him a solid, as Makoto would say.

"Um," she starts, "it's okay if you don't re-" but he cuts her off with a slow smile, eyes lightening a little.

"Odango Atama," he says, that small smile still hovering around his lips. "It's been a long time."

She nods, biting her lip around a smile. Minako is looking between them with raised eyebrows and a grin, and the other students in the class are exchanging glances and deciding how best to corner Usagi as soon as Mamoru leaves, for all the details of how she got the class president to look at her in that specific, heartpounding way.

'Mamo-chan!' the nickname is almost on her lips, she wants to shout it out and run at him full speed, locking him in a giant hug - her body reverberates with the need to protect him and be close to him. But the teenager standing before her isn't the scrawny eight-year-old who'd been her first -and last - kiss when she was still an elementary school student. And she can't exactly make sense of the intense expression in his eyes.

Mamoru opens his mouth to say something else, but is interrupted.

"Chiba, time for track and field practice," a male classmate calls, walking down the hall with Mamoru's cheering section behind him. One of them runs up, links her arm through Mamoru's and makes sure - Usagi can't help but notice - to press her breasts up against his arm. She has a whistle around her neck, team assistant, Usagi guesses.

"Uh... right. Thanks, Yoko," he says, shaking his head as if to clear it. Looking back at Usagi, he gave another slow, wondering grin. "Welcome to Azabu, Odango Atama. I'll see you around."

She's still frozen to the spot when he and the girl leave, even as her classmates surround her, eagerly exploding in questions and squealing.

* * *

Mamoru pushes his hair out of his eyes and leans his head against the shower wall, looking up at the ceiling of the locker room. Usagi. Tsukino Usagi. The name runs around in his head, along with the lame way he left her, standing in the classroom - still diminutive, still adorable, still everything in the world to him.

"'I'll see you around'?," he mutters to himself, into the running water. "What an idiot."

When Aino Minako had accosted him in the hallway he'd been mildly surprised, the girl was one of the blessed few who seemed to leave him alone, but then she cheerfully grabbed his sleeve and pulled him along. "Come with me," she bubbled, and next thing he knew he was being pulled through the door of a first year classroom only to find himself staring, shocked, into bright blue eyes he hadn't seen in years.

His Odango Atama. The little girl who comforted him on the loneliest day in his life, who stood up for him, who played with him when no one else would. There, in front of him, in the flesh.

She still wears her hair the same way, wound up in two knots, the style that earned her his nickname for her - only now the blonde waves fall all the way down her back, instead of ending at her shoulders. And he'd know that little pert nose and flashing eyes anywhere, even if the face they were in was more grown - lips fuller, eyes less rounded.

 _God, she got beautiful._

Her looks didn't matter at the time, in his shock and joy of seeing her - of wanting to open his arms for a hug, to revert back to his younger self and bury his face in her shoulder like he had so many times before - but now, in the sanctuary of the locker room shower he let his mind replay their reunion like a movie. The endearing way she bit her lip, the sparkle in her gorgeous eyes, the way the Azabu school uniform fell a little on her slim shoulders, clung to her chest and skimmed her belly... the way she'd grown taller but remained shorter than the other girls in the class. And the way he remembered her lips feeling when he kissed her goodbye all those years ago. A fast, dry kiss on chapped lips, secret and hidden in trees by her driveway, before the moving van had taken her away from him for what had felt like forever.

And now she's back. Back and here, in his school, to walk the same hallways and share the same lunchroom.

Breathless, he dunks his head under the water again.

* * *

 _I am pretty sure Azabu is an all-boys school in the manga, but I changed it sorrrrry :) artistic license_


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all SO MUCH for the unbelievable reaction this fic has gotten both here and on ff dot net. It's so encouraging and happy for me, and I'm glad you are enjoying it. It's nice to be 'back' (so to speak). Thank you again and I hope you like this next chapter too!

Thanks to my beta, Irritablevowel, she's the best y'all!

* * *

Usagi's first test at Azabu is a disaster. As in Juuban, they list the test scores publicly - plastered on the bulletin board for all to see - and her name is there, on the very last line. The lowest score in class D - which, of course, means it is the lowest in the school.

"Better luck next time?" Minako says, her voice overly encouraging. Usagi shuts her eyes and swallows a moan.

 _This was a mistake,_ she thinks. T _his whole thing was some massive, rich-girl mista-_

A hand on her shoulder short circuits her thoughts. Mamoru leans down, his gaze straight ahead at her name on the wall. His lips are almost at her ear.

"Study more, Odango Atama."

His breath tickles her ear and for a moment she forgets to breathe herself. Color rushes to her cheeks as his fingers squeeze on her shoulder for a second before releasing her and stepping back. She turns and regards him, as he stands there with a half-smile, hands now in his pockets.

"Thanks for the advice," she says, dryly, and his smile grows.

"Maybe I can help you," he offers, shoving his hands deeper into this pockets, somehow looking vulnerable even though he towers over her. Usagi doesn't have to ask for credentials - his name is with the 3rd years, and at the top of the class.

"Chiba, between soccer, track and field and being president do you really think you have time?" Usagi recognizes the team assistant girl - Yoko - as she appears by his side, her eyes momentarily sending daggers at Usagi before shifting back to Mamoru.

Mamoru cringes and Usagi can see his brows knit as he considers, and she knows Yoko is right.

She waves her hands dismissively. "It's fine! It's okay, I'll figure something out. Maybe Daddy can hire a tutor or something-"

"I can help you," comes a voice so quiet that Usagi almost doesn't hear it. She turns to see a small girl with short hair and a lovely face.

Mamoru's face breaks out into a smile. "Ami," he says. Yoko shifts her daggers to Ami, but Usagi counters it with a genuine smile.

"Mizuno Ami?" Usagi asks, recognizing the name from the very top student in all of first year. The top of the top of A class, Mizuno Ami. Usagi expected a snob, but the girl who stands in front of her, shoulders hunched into herself and gaze hesitant and shy, seems the opposite of a snob.

"That is... if you think, you'd like to study with me," Ami continues.

"Like to?! I'd love to!" Usagi says, eyes widening. "Well, I mean, as much as I could ever _love_ to study anyway." The joke falls flat, she realizes, surrounded by such elite students. Her heart sinks and her face flushes. Ami probably loves to study. For that matter, probably so does Mamoru. Awkwardly, she laughs, hand behind her head, and Minako - bless bubbly, D class Minako - laughs along with her. Ami even breaks into a smile that actually shows some small, pearl teeth, and giggles slightly.

"Who knows, you might actually like it," Ami offers and Usagi shakes her head at her new friend, slinging an arm around the surprised girl's shoulders.

"I might, but I doubt it. The important thing is, if you can bring my score up from a 30 I promise I'll love you forever."

Ami flushes and seems pleased. Usagi looks up to lock eyes with Mamoru for just a second, before he's pulled away to the next class. For a moment, Usagi lets her heart patter in her chest, watching him walk away, before she shakes herself and turns to her new friend.

"So," Minako chirps, "when do we have our first study group?"

* * *

"Practice was good today," Yoko is saying that afternoon, as Mamoru pulls his books from his locker. He nods, murmuring an agreement.

"Oops," she giggles, "I forgot to take off my team shirt." Dropping her bag, she pulls the oversized shirt over her head. Although she is wearing her uniform beneath it, Mamoru still has to turn away from the flash of stomach revealed in the empty hallway. He hates when girls do this to him.

 _Would you hate it if it were Usagi?_ says a treacherous voice in his head, and he shakes his head, refusing to dwell on Usagi - on the sweet scent of her shampoo that he caught when he leaned close to comment on her test score that morning. He also refuses to think about the skin of her neck and the small swell of her breasts and how close he had been to her. His mind teasingly offers up the image of Usagi's belly flashed before him instead of Yoko's and his body responds despite himself. He hopes Yoko doesn't notice he has to shift his body and adjust the books in his arms.

"You wanna get something to eat?" she asks, slipping the whistle off her neck and putting it into her school bag with her team shirt.

"Actually, I'm going to go see when art club gets out," Mamoru says.

He had heard the new transfer student had joined the school's art club, and sure enough that's where he finds Usagi, who greets him with a smile as she leaves the art room. "Hi, Mamo-ch-," she freezes for a moment, before correcting herself, "Mamoru. What's up?"

"I was wondering if you were headed home?" he says. Once again they've amassed an audience, Usagi's art club classmates watching curiously.

Usagi nods, "I take the 2 bus."

He has his school bag swung over his shoulder. "I'll walk with you to the bus stop," he says. "And, Mamo-chan is just fine, by the way."

* * *

"All I'm saying," Minako says, pausing to take a swig of her melon soda, "is if this were a shoujo manga you'd be cornered on the roof and bullied by Chiba's fanclub."

Ami delicately sips at her tea to hide her giggle. Makoto raises her brows at Usagi, shaking her head with a smile.

"For real, though, Minako?"

Minako shrugs gracefully. "He's been walking her to the bus after school, like, once a week for the past month or so. After his track and field and Usagi's art club."

Usagi sighs, rolling her eyes. His track and field practice with half the girls in the school cheering him on. For a moment she wonders if she'd be one of them, if not for art club. Would she even _want_ to stand elbow to elbow with his fanclub, sighing over Mamoru's lithe form as he sprints to the finish line? She'd want to be there for her friend but... something inside her rebels violently against being one of his 'fanclub'. It's just a reminder: her attraction to Mamoru must remain hidden - as deep as she can. It's the only thing keeping her from being just one of his girls.

Shaking herself, she looks at her gathered friends a happy smile. It's hard for her to feel badly for too long when her friends became such good friends, when study groups half the time become gossip sessions in the fruits parlor. "Mamo-chan and I are friends," she says.

"Tell that to Yoko. She'd kill you with her brain, if she could," Minako says and Usagi's smile falters a little.

"Don't worry," Ami says, kindly. "She's harmless. Just has a big crush on Chiba."

"Along with half the school," Minako finishes her soda and pushes the straw into the ice with a smirk. "What do you and the top 3rd year at school, class president no less, even talk about?"

Usagi shrugs slightly, feeling exposed suddenly. "This and that," she says. They talk about funny things that happened that day, his thoughts on the latest thing he's into researching... some memories from their shared childhood. Sometimes they walked in amiable silence, and sometimes their fingers almost brushed... "I regale him with tales of D class," Usagi winks at Minako who preens.

"I hope I star in all of them," she says.

* * *

"I was thinking today we could go see a friend of mine," Mamoru says, as he and Usagi walk out of the school. Not hand-in-hand, but in step, fingers brushing now and then. The students murmur around them, and Usagi ignores it. Classmates are quick to believe her when she insists she's not dating Chiba.

"Never thought _you_ were," seems to be the general consensus, and Usagi can't even be offended. She understands - she's struggling through D class while Mamoru practically leads the school.

Sometimes, though, Usagi wonders if he remembers their kiss, remembers that at least for a brief time in his life he had talked about marrying Tsukino Usagi like it was all he wanted.

Mamoru leads Usagi to a shrine in the city, and up the multitude of steps into the quiet sanctuary that makes the bustling city seem far away. A crow caws and far away, a bell rings in the wind.

"Rei!" Mamoru lifts his arm and waves to someone. A miko appears - someone who has to be by far the most beautiful human Usagi has ever laid eyes on.

She can feel a blush climb her cheeks as Rei's violet eyes scrutinize her. For a moment she feels like the gorgeous miko is seeing into her very soul. Then it passes, and Rei huffs a bit.

"You could've called ahead you know," she says, leading the way into the shrine.

The tea is warm and fragrant, and Rei sets out a tray of cookies and small oranges that Usagi immediately attacks. "So how do you know each other?" Usagi asks, finally, half expecitng the answer she receives.

"We dated," Rei says causally. Usagi silently scolds herself for the way her heart sinks and Mamoru shoots Rei a sharp, reproachful look.

"Fine, we didn't date," she tells a confused Usagi. Usagi wouldn't have been surprised if they had, they are both heartbreaking beautiful people. "But we may have let people believe we were, for a while."

Mamoru runs a sheepish hand through his hair. "You may have noticed that," he clears his throat, "at school there are a number of girls who- well -"

"Your fanclub," Usagi provides, helpfully. She'd be blind not to know that, when it comes to Chiba Mamoru, he is so far out of her league it's almost pathetic.

"Well, I had a similar issue at TA Academy," Rei explains. "It makes it difficult to get work done when constantly inundated with declarations of love."

"Wait," Usagi says, "isn't TA an all-girls school?"

Rei looks at her blandly. "Your point?"

"Anyway, it was convienent for a bit, 'till it got tiresome," Rei continues with a shrug. "I have no interest in that sort of thing on the best of days. Anyway, I guess Mamoru wanted me to meet the famous Usagi."

She blinks at Rei's wording and turns to Mamoru, but he's looking into his teacup.

"It seems you picked up your precious friendship right where you left off," the priestess says, and Usagi feels her stomach twist. Just where they left off...

 _'I won't forget you Mamo-chan!' She grasps his hands and he squeezes her fingers, tears filling those blue blue eyes._

 _And she is crushed into a tight hug._

 _'Mamo-chan! I love you so much! You are my best friend!'_

 _'Once day, we'll find each other again, Usa. I promise.'_

Usagi clears her throat, and lifts her tea cup to her lips, hands suddenly slightly shaking.

The conversation turns bit, to how Usagi is liking her new classmates (very much), how she is doing academically (not well), and how she and Mamoru met. It's a pleasant enough visit, and Rei seems to have granted grudging approval by the time they are standing to leave.

"You don't have to be psychic to see the way you look at her," Rei says quietly to Mamoru as he's about to leave.

Mamoru watches Usagi take the steps two at a time. The setting sun turns her hair dark gold, and she turns to Mamoru with a smile that makes his stomach drop. "I finally got her back," he says, firmly. "That's enough for me."

If he says it enough, perhaps it will become true.


	3. Chapter 3

This is a short chapter but hopefully you find it fun! It seems almost like a chapter in a HS shoujo manga to me :) Thanks to Irritablevowel for beta'ing this even though she's so busy!

* * *

Track and field practice ends for the winter season, but it doesn't mean Mamoru has much more free time. The Student Body President is expected to start heading up the plans for the school festival in spring. To Mamoru, spring seems so far away from this dreary December it's almost laughable.

Yoko catches him up after physics class. She hails from Class B but catches him in the hallways more often than not. "Did you know the art club is putting on a show during Christmas break?" she says, as he slows to allow her to walk beside him. Students bump past them on either side, knowing smirks remind Mamoru the entire school seems to think he and Yoko are a match made in... well, high school heaven.

"A show?" He stops by his locker and she curls her arms around her waist, bouncing on her feet a bit.

"An art show. At, like, a gallery in Harajuku. You need tickets and everything."

He raises eyebrows at her, impressed.

"A mother of one of the art club member's owns the gallery," she explains. "Anyway, I got tickets. Wanna go?" She pauses and hurriedly adds, "With me."

He pauses, books halfway out of his locker and considers. He doesn't want to lead Yoko on. But if the art club is there, Usagi might have something displayed (she hadn't mentioned it?) and he doesn't want to miss it. Besides, he and Yoko _are_ friends. He supposes. Classmates who are friendly? Something to that effect.

"I know your friend Tsukiko will have a piece there," she says.

"Tsukino," he corrects, automatically, closing his locker and turning to her. "Sure," he says, finally. "I'd like to go."

She grins.

* * *

"Why didn't you mention you have some artwork being displayed at the show?" Ami asks, putting aside her workbook and looking at Usagi whose mouth drops open a bit.

"How'd you hear?" she squeaks. It is usually Minako who has her finger on the pulse of student life at Azabu, not Ami. And she hadn't mentioned it to anyone, except her parents.

"Mamoru told me," Ami says. "He says he got a ticket to come see."

"Oh," Usagi says, eyes sliding back down to her math worksheet - mostly blank with some scribbles here and there. She truly had meant to concentrate but... "I was thinking about telling him. Maybe giving him a ticket. But since he has one already..."

Minako clears her throat, gesturing at Makoto and Ami and herself. "Uh, what about _us,_ Usagi? We wanna go met hot artist guys- aaand see your drawing of course, that too heh heh."

Usagi flushes, twisting her pencil in her hands nervously. "I don't have many tickets. I gave three to my family already... and I thought I'd give one to Rei and Mako-chan-"

"What?" Minako demands, looking at Makoto accusingly.

"Well, she doesn't go to Azabu, so she can't get tickets any other way!"

Ami smiles and pats Usagi's hand. "No worries, I am sure I can ask some teachers."

"And I'll turn on the charm to some art club guy," Minako nods, determined. "No way we are missing seeing your artwork!"

Usagi pulls her shoulders up to her ears, embarrassed. "It's not so good you guys..." She's not being modest. The students at Azabu seem to excel at everything, and the watercolors and charcoal sketches and oil landscapes put her simple Copic marker sketch to shame. Still, it is nice to be surrounded by the support of her friends.

* * *

Mamoru is impressed with the set up the art club managed to pull off. The students maximized the space with some accordion walls, which have various canvas and mounted paper pictures hung at eye-level with a small paragraph about the student who created it. He walks through the space, taking note of the subjects of the drawings - some still-life, some portrait, some abstract. Yoko walks by his side, as close as she can be without actually grabbing his hand.

Mamoru sees Usagi before she sees him, she's standing by her work but halfway blocking it with her body, almost as if she's a bit embarrassed. Standing beside her is a tall girl with a brunette ponytail. Makoto, Mamoru thinks her name is, Usagi's friend from Juuban. He speeds his step a little, walking past artwork without seeing it, lifting his hand in greeting.

"Hey, Usa."

"Mamo-chan!" She smiles, and it makes the room more beautiful to him than all the artwork combined. He's so used to seeing her in her school uniform, that the pink dress she's wearing throws him for a second. It makes her skin glow and her lips sparkle (or maybe that's some sort of gloss? Mamoru isn't sure). She's so so pretty and it's so so distracting when he's trying to form words.

Yoko had half-jogged to keep up with him and now stands by his side, smiling confidently at Usagi. "I would love to see your picture," she says, and it forces Usagi to shift out of the way a bit, looking at Yoko silently. She's surprised a bit to see her there, and standing by Mamoru as if they'd come together - as if this was a date for them. Usagi pushes the sick feeling away from her belly. Mamoru is free to date whomever he wants, she reminds herself. Her feelings for him are her problem, not his.

"It's really nice!" Yoko says, and sounds sincere, all dirty looks gone. Why should she glare, Usagi thinks, when she's practically in Mamoru's arms? She blinks and tries to focus instead on anything else.

"It's really nice," Mamoru says. The picture is sketched in pencil and colored with high-quality markers, in bright color. It depicts a crying girl in traditional kimono, reaching her arms out to someone only seen in profile. The sky is purple and the moon almost shimmering. He resists the urge to reach out and touch it, uncertain how Usagi accomplished this with just markers.

"It's supposed to...," Usagi curls her shoulders up, "to be Princess Kaguya... when she says goodbye ... to the emperor and everyone on Earth..." She flushes. "I just figured she'd be so sad, ya know?" She doesn't say the inspiration came from her having to say goodbye to Mamoru all those years ago, and when he meets her eyes, she knows doesn't have to.

"Usagi!" They all turn as Usagi's parents and brother hurry toward the group, with Rei arriving close behind them. While her parents fawn over their daughter and her artwork and Rei eyes Yoko suspiciously, Usagi attempts introductions.

"Mom, you remember Chiba Mamoru, right?"

"Of course," she warmly says, shaking Mamoru's hand. "How lovely you and Usagi ended up at the same school after all these years."

"And this is his date, Yoko," she continues, keeping her voice steady. Yoko smiles and bows and Mamoru opens his mouth but is spoken over almost immediately.

"Quite the venue!" Usagi's father booms, and his wife beams.

"Such an elite school to have the son of a gallery owner in the art club!" she says.

"You just missed Ami and Minako," Usagi explains, as Makoto greets Usagi's parents and brother familiarly. They chat for a bit, until Yoko begins to look antsy under Rei's steel gaze.

"Mamoru, I'm a bit hungry, shall we go get something to eat now?" She pulls on his hand and Usagi is suddenly extremely interested in a watercolor landscape on the far wall.

"Uh, sure, I guess," he says, blinking. "Yeah..." As they say their good-byes to the group, Mamoru gives Rei a helpless look and half-shrug but she just shakes her head at him.

Usagi watches them go, trying to pay attention to her father's words about doing a piece for his magazine with one of the professors at her school, but failing to follow the conversation at all. "Sorry," she says, suddenly and all eyes turn to her in surprise. "I uh... Just a sec. Excuse me." And she turns toward the door.

"Mamo-chan!" the winter air outside raises her words in little puffs of vapor as she calls out. She doesn't notice as her skin pricks up in goosebumps in the chill.

He turns and smiles, jogging toward her. Yoko waits at the corner, arms crossed and bouncing a little in the cold.

"I just wanted to say-," she starts, swallows. Tries again. "I guess I won't see you until after New Years so..."

"She's not my date," he says at the same time Usagi says "Merry Christmas!"

For a moment they look at each other in surprise. A giggle bubbles up somewhere inside Usagi and he answers with a sheepish laugh of his own, running his hands through his hair.

Then, she looks up, mouth falling open in joy. "Mamo-chan, look!" she breathes. "It's snowing!"

Sure enough, little white flakes are falling softly and silently from the Tokyo sky. She stretches out her bare hands, the flakes melting gently on her skin.

He smiles at her, eyes light. Then the crosswalk signal changes and Yoko calls him over.

"Merry Christmas, Usako," he says, before he leaves.

The nickname is new and it makes her glad her cheeks are red from the cold already.


	4. Chapter 4

AN. - sorry it's been so long!

So, I'm pretty sure most anime fans are aware of the different way Valentine's Day is celebrated in Japan vs elsewhere, but anyway girls give boys chocolate (either because they are friends or colleagues, or romantically). Men reciprocate on White Day in March.

* * *

"Like this?" Usagi looks up at Makoto, who peers over the shorter girl's shoulder with a smile.

"That looks great!" she says, nodding approvingly at the shavings of chocolate Usagi is carefully pouring into a double boiler. "Keep stirring it. I'll add some coconut oil to give in a nice sheen."

Makoto holds up the mold in the shape of a rose. "This is the one you wanted, right?"

"Yes," Usagi answers, "because I gave Mamo-chan a rose when we first met."

"Oooh, I love it," Makoto says, sighing as she clasps her hands in front of her, a dreamy expression in her dark green eyes. "Oh!" She claps her hands a little. "Maybe we can make a rose cream filling and pink white chocolate ganache drizzle…." She trails off as Usagi's eyes grow wide.

"Uh… Mako-chan… I can barely manage this?" she gestures to the chocolate, which is beginning to bubble in a concerning way. Makoto defty swoops down and removes it from the heat, continuing to stir.

"Okay, good point," she giggles. "I'm sure Mamoru will like it no matter what."

"You think so?" Usagi says nervously, holding the mold steady while Makoto slowly pours the chocolate in.

"Oh, definitely," she says. "Because it's from you."

* * *

The next day – Valentine's Day – is dreary and cold. The snow of December has long since melted away, leaving February with only dirty icy puddles on the city streets. The lush landscaping outside Moto Azabu is nothing but dead-seeming bramble and some stubborn evergreen shrubs clinging to life. But the student body is undeterred by the depressing season, and the school yard is filled with happy greetings and rosy cheeks. Girls bury their faces in their scarfs as they hand small packages of chocolate to the boys, who respond with a flush that may or may not be related to the cold.

Usagi loves Valentine's Day, and usually as a child and middle school student she exchanged little cards and foil-wrapped chocolates with her male friends and classmates, convincing whomever she could to share some of their spoils, too. But in high school it is different – the atmosphere and expectations are shifted.

There is a different kind of tension in the air – or maybe she is imagining it. Shaking fingers pull again at the red bow that ties the plastic bag with Mamoru's chocolate rose inside. She'd curled the ribbon herself and wrote 'To Mamo-chan' in her neatest handwriting on the luxurious cardstock Makoto had provided.

"Stop fussing with it," Minako says, slapping the back of Usagi's hand. "It looks perfect."

"Yeah?" Usagi says, biting her lip a bit. "Okay." Mamoru is so precious to her, his friendship so important –and the small token suddenly seems unworthy.

The hum of the conversations swirling around the courtyard suddenly changes as Mamoru enters the gate, chatting with some of the student council members. Usagi only has a moment to take in the sight of his wind-mussed hair, the puffs of breath coming from his lips, how even in a scarf and winter jacket he still looked trim and put-together. Then, there is a flurry of activity as half the student body - at least it seems that way to Usagi - rushes to his side.

"Chiba-san!" "Mamoru-san!" "Happy Valentine's Day!" Mamoru blinks and runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head a bit as if steeling himself. Then, he takes out a paper shopping bag, unfolding it carefully to accept all the gifts being handed to him by his female classmates. The bag is halfway full in minutes.

Usagi feels shell-shocked. "I can't believe I didn't see this coming," she manages to say.

"This has been happening every year since middle school," Minako sounds a bit surprised. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

Catching Usagi's eye, Mamoru smiles and waves a bit, making his way over to them as best he can being stopped every few feet by another admirer. From here, Usagi can see the contents of his bag - golden boxes of Godiva chocolates, homemade truffles perfectly packaged in cellophane, gorgeous patterns of wrapping paper with his name in perfect English-letter script on the tag - in an instant Usagi launches her misshapen plastic-bag encased chocolate rose into the bramble behind her.

"Why'd you do that?" Minako hisses, hitting Usagi in the arm, but Usagi is already smiling, greeting Mamoru cheerfully.

"Good morning!" she says, and he returns the greeting to both girls, shifting the bag in his hands.

"It's so crazy," Usagi is saying, smacking herself on the forehead, "I completely forgot it was Valentine's Day." She laughs, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, Mamo-chan, or I'd've gotten you some Melty or something at the store."

He gives a sheepish half-smile. "I almost forgot too," he confesses, rubbing his neck with his hand. "So I don't blame you." Usagi knows it's a lie, he brought a bag for pete's sake!, and Mamoru never forgets what day it is. But Usagi forgetting? At least that's believable, she thinks.

"So that's certainly a lot of chocolate," Usagi says, finally, fighting the flush of embarrassment that wants to bloom on her face. How could she have even thought of giving him her stupid rose?

"I always share," Mamoru says, "at lunch. So come find me, okay?"

"Haven't you been spending lunch periods planning the school festival lately?" Minako says, and he nods.

"Most days, yeah."

It's true - since school started up again after the holidays, Usagi hasn't seen him nearly as much as she had gotten used to. Although spring seems years away in the wintery cold, the school festival is coming up in a little over a month. And a month after that, the school year ends - and Mamoru graduates. College entrance exams, elections for next year's class president, and the school festival are taking up so much of his time, and Usagi desperately misses his company.

They chat a bit more, the giant bag of chocolate like a wall between them, until the bell rings and Usagi - for once in her life - is grateful for the start of class.

* * *

To his delight, Usagi joins Mamoru toward the end of lunchtime, after his bench is vacated by the large group of classmates that always seems to surround him.

In the few minutes they have together, Usagi manages to nab two Godiva caramels, a homemade hazelnut truffle, and one bite of a ganache-filled heart that she realizes is coffee flavored - handing it back to him with an adorable look of disgust. After just a moment's hesitation, he eats the rest of it - trying not to think of the 'indirect kiss' and Usagi's sudden intake of breath - that he might be imagining. Just then, the bell signals it's almost time to return to class.

"Thanks for sharing your spoils, Romeo," Usagi teases, although there is something in her eyes Mamoru can't place - something that makes him sad.

As she walks away, the bounce of her skirt against her legs distracts Mamoru so much he almost doesn't hear her as she turns to say, "Aren't you coming?"

"In a bit," he answers.

* * *

The next day, when Usagi arrives in homeroom exactly two seconds before the bell, there is note waiting on her desk. She has time for a cursory glance around the classroom, wondering who left it - and is met with amused and curious stares and Minako's exaggerated wink. When the teacher turns to the chalkboard, Usagi surreptitiously opens the folded paper on her lap and reads the handwritten note inside.

"Usa-ko,

Thank you so much for the rose. It was perfect. Exactly what I wanted.

Happy Valentine's Day.

-Mamo-chan"

She swallows and folds it back up, looking up at the front of the classroom in some kind of shock. She gives a sharp glance at Minako who looks like she's ready to explode from wanting gossip. Sure enough, as soon as the bell rings Minako is out of her seat like a shot, rushing to Usagi.

"What does it say? They said the class president left it?! I only came in just before you did-"

"Did you tell him?" Usagi demands, and Minako looks confused.

"Tell him what?"

"About me throwing my chocolate!" Usagi jogs two steps to catch up to Minako as they walk down the window-lined hallway to their next class.

"Nope, I didn't!" Minako insists. Then she smirks. "But I bet he saw you do it." She suddenly stops and gives an exaggerated wave out the window. Usagi looks out and sees Mamoru, walking toward his next class.

Minako's antics catch his eye, and he looks up and smiles - gaze shifting to Usagi as he gives a single wave - almost a salute - and she can see the band-aids on his fingers and palm from the bramble's thorns.


	5. Chapter 5

The weather in March is unseasonably warm, the tight buds on the branches of the cherry trees lining the walkway to Azabu Tech giving promise to spring. Usagi usually looks forward to April - the blooming of the cherry blossoms (and the accompanying picnics), the end of the school year and that coveted time off.

But this year it's difficult for her to be cheerful at the prospect - because April also means graduation for the 3rd year class. Which means Mamoru would be... Usagi has to swallow against tears at the thought of the school hallway without him. Even with Ami and Minako to keep her company, and Rei and Makoto always ready to spend time together on weekends, the thought of daily life without Mamoru in it is difficult for Usagi to fathom. It seems bizarre to imagine now that she'd even managed those years between losing him and meeting him again.

She knows he's got his eye on Keio University (and has no doubt he'll get in), which is nearby - but who's to say he'd have time for friendship with a silly high-school girl once he's on campus surrounded by beautiful, sophisticated college women?

Ugh, spring had never been so depressing! Usagi makes a face at the cherry blossom buds as she enters the school gates. After Valentine's Day, there has been a new influx of couples, too. Yoko, for example, is one of the girls walking around with hearts in her eyes after confessing to Mamoru's teammate Hiorshi with some homemade chocolate in February. Usagi has to admit that as much as she loves love, it's a hard to see everyone hand in hand in the hallways - especially since she keeps waiting for Mamoru to accept one of the confessions she knows he hears at least once a week.

She's early enough that she doesn't need to run to class, but late enough that she doesn't get a glimpse of the student body president at all that morning. With a sigh, she trudges in the doors.

Minako is standing by the doorway, greeting her with a wide grin that immediately makes Usagi suspicious. "Did you know today is White Day?" she smirks and Usagi blinks. That she actually had forgotten. Unlike Valentine's Day, White Day is much lower key. Only boys with girlfriends (and reminders on their calendars) ever really reciprocate February's chocolate-a-palooza.

Yet, sitting on Usagi's desk is a little white box.

"Open it open it open it openitopenitopenit!" Minako is bouncing now, and the other kids are glancing between Usagi and the door, obviously hoping the teacher doesn't enter until they've had time to watch Usagi open her gift.

"Who left it?" Usagi is a bit surprised to see her hands are shaking as she opens the box.

"No one knows, it was here when I came in, and I was first because I had set-up duty," Natsuko says from her desk by the door. "C'mon Tsukino! Who is it from?"

Inside the box is a tiny, perfect white chocolate rabbit. It's definitely store bought, but Usagi can't imagine it is from anywhere but the most talented chocolatier in the city (unless Makoto made it, that is).

"Well?" Minako whines, pulling Usagi's arm, but the shorter blonde just shakes her head. There isn't a card.

"I don't know," Usagi says.

Minako has time just before the teacher comes in to give Usagi an incredulous look and say, "Isn't it obvious?" before being shushed to her seat by the start of the day.

* * *

"It's too cute to eat," Usagi says at lunch, looking adoringly at the box with the bunny in her hands.

The reaction from her friends is an instantaneous and exaggerated, "Eh?!"

"Tsukino Usagi not wanting to eat something?" Minako says, elbowing her gently in the side. "It must be true love."

Usagi blushes despite herself, mumbling, "We don't _know_ it's from- I mean, who it's from."

"Who _else_ did you give chocolate to?" Minako counters.

"Technically, I didn't _give_ chocolate to anyone," Usagi says, and Ami giggles a bit behind her hand.

"Okay, who else did you make dig through a pile of thorns for chocolate, then?" Minako said.

Usagi looked at the bunny again, a wistfulness coming into her eyes that Ami didn't miss.

"Why don't you just ask him?" Ami said, gently.

"And while you are at it, ask him when he's going to _confess_ already," Minako said, "We are all so sick of waiting!"

Usagi chokes a little on her lunch. "Confess!? To who?"

Ami and Minako both look at her with identical incredulous expressions.

"To whom," Ami says, finally, drowning out Minako's muttering, "She really is an idiot."

* * *

After school, Usagi lingers during Mamoru's practice, watching him and the team jogging around the track. She's not alone, of course, in watching Mamoru run - the other girls are there as usual, sighing over his long legs and slim yet muscular arms.

Afterward, she manages to catch his eye as he accepts a towel from a blushing second-year. Mamoru blinks in surprise - he had been tuning out his 'fan club' during his run, as he usually did, and didn't think to look for Usagi's flash of blonde hair in the crowd. He's suddenly extremely aware of the sweat on his shirt, and the muss of his hair.

"Usako," he runs a hand through his damp hair. "Uh, hi."

"Hi," she says, her familiar soft lips lifting into a smile. (At least, he assumes her lips are still soft - he spends more time than he wants to admit ruminating on Usagi's lips). She hands him a water bottle. "Good practice today," she adds, as a matter of course, and he can't help a sheepish half-smile.

"Yeah? Heh, thanks." He takes the bottle and raises a brow a bit at the level of water.

"I got thirsty," she shrugs a little sheepishly, and he can't help but laugh a bit. "Hey, cheering you on is hard work!"

He opens the bottle and takes a sip, trying again not to think about how shared beverages might be the closest he ever gets to actually kissing Usagi.

They begin walking toward the locker rooms together, his fanclub dispersing with some muttering, and his teammates already disappearing into the locker room as he pauses outside to continue the conversation.

"So, Mamo-chan, today is White Day and-"

"Did you like the bunny?" he asks, and her eyes light up.

"It _was_ from you!" She cries, clapping her hands together. He laughs a little at her antics.

"Who did you think it was from?" He asks, trying to keep his voice light. Are there other boys who give her chocolate?

"Thank you so much!"

Impulsively, she bounces forward on the balls of her feet and wraps her arms around his waist, seemingly not noticing (or caring) about the dampness of his shirt. Mamoru is momentarily unable to speak, as her soft little body presses against him, arms tight around him in a bonefide Usagi Tsukino bear hug. He hopes he doesn't smell too sweaty, hopes the awkward way he rests his free hand in the middle of the back is okay with her, hopes she doesn't notice how he inhales the scent of her shampoo, shutting his eyes against the warmth spreading across his body at her closeness.

All too soon, she's untangled herself from him, and steps back, arms linked behind her back, face still beaming up at him. In the setting sun, her face is luminous. She moistens her lips, pink tongue darting across her lower lip, and his brain almost short-circuits.

"You're welcome," he manages to say.

For a second, a few unknown emotions flash in her blue eyes before she takes a deep breath. "Hey, Mamo-chan?"

"Yeah?"

"The girls that confess to you - what do you say to them?"

He's caught off guard at her question. Of all he wants to talk to her about, this topic is the most unexpected and, frankly, unwelcome.

"I know lots of girls like you," she's continuing, "and some of them must confess. But you never have a girlfriend. So you must... I mean, you must always turn them down and..." She shifts on her feet, awkwardly tugging on the sleeve of her uniform. "Just wondering what you say. When a girl confesses."

Mamoru does, in fact, have a set answer for confessions - a situation he really loathes. He tells them he's flattered, but too busy to date. Lately, he adds that he's thinking too much about graduation and college to become tangled in a high school romance. He emphasizes his disinterest in dating isn't a reflection on them, rather on him. Still, it always tends to go terribly, in a myriad of different ways.

But he can't make himself say any of those things out loud now. He can't list his carefully curiated reasons to avoid romance, not when Usagi's nearness makes him unable to think of anything else. Rendered mute, he looks at her helplessly.

"Mamo-chan?" She presses, touching his sleeve. His eyes drop to her fingers drifting along the hem of his sleeve. God, he wants her so badly.

"You trying to figure out how to reject someone?" he says, the thought occurring to him as he says it, ice water in his veins. She shakes her head, rolling her eyes.

"No," she pushes his arm a little, back to their old banter as if the spell was broken. "Just wanted to glimpse into the world of Azabu's Sexiest Man Alive."

He winds his shoulders back, giving her a smirk. "I charge for interviews, Tsukino." He's laughing now, his usual teasing tone back in his voice. Shifting his body a bit, he pushes the locker room door a bit with his shoulder, makes to turn around and enter.

"Oh, jeeze! What do I have to do, confess to you myself just to hear what you say in your rejection?" She throws her arms up in mock exasperation, rolling her eyes even as her cheeks turn pink.

"What makes you think I'd reject you?" He has no idea how he manages to say it, to keep his voice light as his heart freezes in his chest. With a flirtatiousness he didn't know he even possessed, he winks at her before letting the door close behind him.

Immediately he falls against the wall, shutting his eyes and putting his palms to his forehead. He barely registers the voices of his teammates and the running water of the showers, his heart still pounding in his chest. Did he really say that? Was Usagi still out there, what did she think of his response, did she assume he was teasing? And, jeeze, did she have to feel so good in his arms?

Shaking his head, Mamoru resists the urge to slam his head against the wall, and instead heads to the showers, water bottle still clenched in his hand.

* * *

Thanks, as always, to my beta and fandom bestie Irritablevowel!


	6. Chapter 6

as always, thanks to my beta Irritablevowel. Check out her amazing HaruMichi fic called Breaking Down.

* * *

"Things are looking great," Mamoru says, causing the girls on the School Festival Planning committee to blush and giggle with delight.

The courtyard of Azabu is absolutely transformed from the usual manicured lawns and orderly walkways into a chaos of half-formed booths and students running around in all directions, shouting greetings and orders at each other as each club prepares their offering for the festival the next morning.

Mamoru is acutely aware that Usagi is at the Art Club's table, and forces himself to concentrate on planning aspects and not her proximity, but he can't help sneaking glances and marveling at how adorable she looks trying to keep a folding chair open as it keeps toppling over on her.

"Okay, got that end?" Mika asks, holding up the banner on one end, as Usagi struggles to lift her arms above her head to line it up with the taller girl's side.

"Kinda?" Usagi answers, shifting her feet on the stubborn folding chair that had been thwarting her efforts at setup all day. As if it senses her annoyance and takes offense, the chair buckles beneath her feet and she tumbles backwards into something warm and firm.

It takes her a few seconds to realize someone has caught her from behind, arms under hers and chest pressed against her back. It takes her a few more to realize it's Mamoru. Immediately her mind short-circuits. She tilts her head back to look at him (and mentally congratulates herself for not dwelling on how good it feels to be this close to him).

He gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart fall into her stomach. "Hi."

"Hi," she answers and just blinks into his impossibly blue eyes for a second or two longer before jumping back to reality. "Erm." she finds her feet, finally, and stands, turning to face him. She notices they have an audience - her near disaster and enviable fall into the class president's arms causes a flurry of interest from the students - but she can't seem to look away from his gaze.

Then Mika runs over, apologizing profusely and Usagi waves off her concern. The fall was nothing, Usagi is used to that, but she's still reeling with the sheer unexpectedness of finding herself in her crush's embrace - if only for a few short, blissful moments.

Mamoru clears his throat, taking the moment Usagi's talking to Mika to compose himself as best he can. He can still feel the place where her silky hair had brushed against his neck.

"Things going well with the booth?" Mamoru says, all business. "Let's get some help for that banner..."

A couple taller kids from the planning committee take over hanging the banner, with the Art Club president and Mika supervising.

"So, you guys are doing face painting?" Mamoru asks Usagi, and she nods and smiles.

"I'm kinda nervous to be honest," she says. "I'm used to doodling and such on paper but not really on skin." She twists a strand of hair around her finger, and the movement hypnotizes Mamoru a bit.

"Well, anything I can do to help-" he says, without really thinking and is rewarded with a bright, mischievous smile that both delights and terrifies him.

"You wanna let me practice on you?" she asks, and it becomes clear he really has no say in the matter when she takes his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd. "The paints are in the art room."

"I, uh...," he has a million things he can say - that he's needed here, that he doesn't want to walk around with face paint on for the rest of the evening, that Usagi could practice on anyone and why not Minako or Ami? - but the feel of her hand in his freezes the words on his tongue. He'd follow her anywhere.

Soon she has him seated on a stool in the art room, which is empty except for the two of them. She gathers face paints and brushes and a cup full of water and places them on the paint-splattered table in front of him.

"What do you want?" Usagi says, tapping her lip with the top of the paintbrush.

"Something small." Mamoru says, "I gotta take the bus home."

She giggles, "I'll wipe it off when I'm done, jeeze. You like cats, right? I'll do a cat."

The late afternoon sun sends long shadows into the room, and the only sounds Mamoru hears for a while are Usagi's soft breathing and every so often a swish of water as she rinses her brush.

The paint is cool against his cheek, but not unpleasant. Every so often, Usagi leans over and her hair falls across his lap, and her breath stirs the hairs by his ear, and sometimes her knees bump against his legs. Her soft vanilla scent is everywhere. Mamoru is so busy trying to figure out if he'd died and found his way to heaven, that he almost jumps when Usagi starts talking, even though her voice is softer than usual.

"Hey, Mamo-chan?"

Her back is toward him as she rinses the brush.

"Yeah?" he manages to answer, and is instantly embarrassed about how obviously thick with desire his voice is.

"Remember how when we were little..." she pauses, "how sure we were that we were meant for each other?"

"I remember."

"It's kinda of silly, now isn't it?" She shakes the brush over the cup and sets the cup down. "How much we swore we loved each other."

"I don't think so," he says and she gives him a wary smile.

"You are going to have to stop that, Mister!" Usagi says, pointing her brush at him in an admonishing manner.

Mamoru smiles a little, anticipating some sort of Usagi-antic that usually makes him laugh. "Stop doing what?"

"Being so nice to me," she says, and her eyebrows knit for a second. She pushes him on the shoulder with her free hand. "It's not fair!"

This time Mamoru does chuckle a little, as her deceptively strong little push almost makes him lose his balance on the stool. He grabs her arm for support, pulling her a bit closer in the process.

"What do you mean, not fair, Odango Atama?"

"Because I never stopped!" Usagi pulls away and picks up the water cup, face beat red.

At his questioning glance, she sighs defeatedly. "I never stopped ... thinking we were meant for each other. And when I came to Azabu and saw you again...," She swirls the paintbrush in the cup, not bringing herself to look at him. "I realized I still love you. So much. It's stupid."

"It's not," he insists, standing from the stool and taking a step toward her. "Usako, it's not stupid."

"But you're Chiba Mamoru!" she insists, rolling her eyes toward the windows, a reference to the group of admirers in the courtyard.

"And you're Tsukino Usagi," he said easily, as if the was the simplest thing in the world.

"Mamo-chan, I..." Her heart feels like it'd beat out of her chest, or shatter with the sheer weight of how much she cares for him. His hand finds her waist and pulls her slightly closer.

He leans down as she looks up, and their noses bump for a moment, causing Usagi to almost stumble backward, the water cup and paintbrush still in her hands. Mamoru's hand on her back steadies her, and for a moment they just look at each other, her gaze surprised and open, his eyes glittering under half-closed lids.

His leans toward her in a slightly clumsy, questioning way, and she tilts her head up in response and finally _finally_ his lips press against hers.

She can't help the sound she makes - a squeak of surprise, of delight. His free hand caresses her cheek, gently lifting her face for better access to her lips. The slip of her lip balm is sweet, and when her mouth opens under his gentle urging the feelings that rush to Mamoru's head almost upend him.

Then suddenly, the paintbrush and cup fall from Usagi's hands and splash onto the floor.

"Oh!" She steps back and surveys the mess with a flustered expression. From outside, some voices are calling for Mamoru.

"Let me help you-" he starts but she waves him off.

"No you should go back out there, I've kept you long enough." She runs a hand through her bangs and tries to think. Paper towels! yes... she needs paper towels. On her way to the sink she spots the wipes and whirls again, almost crashing into Mamoru. "I need to wipe the cat off your face..."

He catches her hand, his thumb running against the soft skin of her palm and making her feel faint. "Don't," he says, that half smile back on his face, "I want to keep it."

Despite herself, her gaze fixates on his lips - and it doesn't escape his notice. The way she's looking at him overwhelms his senses for a moment, until the voices outside calling his name get too loud to ignore.

"Go!" she pushes him a little. "I'll clean up in here."

* * *

Back outside the students are waiting for his approval to head home. Minako greets him with a toothy grin.

"Hey, Chiba," Minako says. "Nice cat. Usagi's handiwork?"

With a start Mamoru realized he'd never even gotten to see her artwork, and makes a mental note to check a mirror as soon as possible, before it smudges.

He manages a nod before Minako cheerfully continues, "Ready for us to kick your butts in the girls vs boys soccer match tomorrow?"

Mamoru gives a half shrug, "Actually, the planning committee had something a little different in mind for me-" He gestures behind him, where a contraption sits with a seat rigged to an arm and a button, and a currently empty water tank.

"A dunk tank booth!" Koizumi says cheerfully, short hair bouncing as she nods her head. "It's the first one ever here at Azabu! And I think the class president is definitely a good choice for the first to go!"

Running a hand through his hair, Mamoru laughs a little, hiding his embarrassment at being the center of attention yet again.

"If you really wanted to raise money, you could do a kissing booth," Minako says with a sage nod, taping her finger on her chin.

Although she is obviously joking, Mamoru blanches at the absolute horror of the very thought.

"C'mon, how much would you pay to have your precious first kiss with none other than the most sought-after guy in school?" Minako addresses the girls in the group, who blush and giggle in response.

Done cleaning the art room, Usagi comes up to the edge of the group and is glad no one can see her face burn with the knowledge of how close Minako's words are to the recent events in the art room - although, did that count as a their first or second kiss? Because, although the sweet peck on the lips all those years ago is still so, so precious to her, the passionate urgency of his mouth on hers just a few moments ago had blown the previous kiss completely out of the water.

Pondering this occupies Usagi's thoughts for a bit, and it takes a moment for her to realize she's being spoken to.

"Usagi, are you gonna be the first to dunk Mamoru tomorrow?" Minako asks, and Usagi regards the booth with wary curiosity.

"My aim is terrible," she says finally.

"I'm counting on it," Mamoru says, with exaggerated relief. Although he takes his job as student body president seriously, he always felt he lacked that ease of connection with his classmates that Usagi and Minako seem to have in spades. Yet somehow, when Usagi is part of the crowd, he finds himself relaxing a bit, being more open and even joking in a way that he never did before. It had the unfortuate consequence of skyrocketing his popularity which he isn't sure what to do with.

He meets Usagi's eyes and she can't help her smile or her blush. He has to stay after with the planning committee so Usagi heads home with Minako at her side, but can't help craning her neck to keep Mamoru in her vision until she turns the corner at the school gates. Her lips still tingle at the thought of his kiss, and her heart is racing with what might happen tomorrow.


	7. Chapter 7

As always, thanks to Irritiablevowel! not just for beta'ing but for everything else, too. She knows.

* * *

When Usagi leaves the house the next morning it's so early that the ground clings to the morning chill, the heat of the sun not yet melting it away. She twists the last half of her hair up into her usual knotted pigtail, a piece of toast secured in her mouth. It's the earliest she's ever been up on a Saturday in recent memory, and her body isn't quite awake yet.

"Good morning," a familiar baritone startles her so much her toast falls from her lips to the ground.

Both she and Mamoru slowly look up from the ruined breakfast to meet each other's eyes. Mamoru smiles, holding out a Mister Donut bag. "Luckily, I came prepared," he said.

They walk in step, taking the roundabout way to school through the park. The only sound is Usagi's chewing on the chocolate-iced donut he brought her, (she's trying to chew quietly- it seems so, so loud in the morning stillness - but Mamoru doesn't seem to mind) as she thinks desperately of what to say. They haven't spoken - really spoken - since their kiss yesterday and her confession. She's sure his mind is occupied with the logistics of the school festival and all he is responsible for that day and yet he made time to stop by her house to walk with her to school and bring her breakfast and...

She licks the icing off her fingers without thinking and then flushes deep red as Mamoru wordlessly hands her a napkin. His expression isn't judgmental, though, as she cleans her hands and throws the napkin in a nearby trashcan.

"So, um...," she starts, running her now icing-free fingers through the ends of her hair nervously, "Listen, about yesterday..."

"Usako-"

She stops suddenly on the deserted walkway and faces him. "I understand if... if you want to pretend I never said it or if you..., I mean you are graduating and... you have so many things going on at school..." Suddenly her hand flies to her mouth in consternation. "I'm sorry! You probably don't even want to think about this now and here I am bringing it up right before the school festival and..."

"Usako." He takes her hands in his, stilling her nervous fidgeting. His hands are warm, and bigger than hers. When they were children, they always held hands - and his were always bigger than hers, and always warm. But as she looks at them now, his long, tapered fingers brushing her wrists, it hits her again how he'd grown up so, so beautiful and how surreal it seems that he'd still be there - solid and real, hands in hers. "I want to apologize."

The words hurt, she's not going to pretend they don't.

But she can't be angry at him. Not at him, never at him.

She shakes her head, looking at him - the midnight blue of his eyes framed with dark lashes, the eyes of the hurt little boy and the confident upperclassman, her best friend and lost love. There is no need for him to say sorry. She shouldn't have confessed to him, they'll always remain friends. One day, she'll watch him get married (to an intelligent, accomplished beauty) and hopefully the days she harbored unrequited feelings for him would be a distant, nostalgic memory. "You don't have to-"

"I want to apologize for not confessing properly," he insists, and her mind resets so suddenly she almost stumbles backward and he grips her hand a bit firmer to steady her. There is a tightening around his eyes that Usagi recognizes and it hits her with an affectionate twist of her heart: he's nervous. "Usako, when we were little - what I said to you, the promise I made - it hasn't changed. I never forgot you and when you showed up here at Azabu, still the same silly little bunny -"

"-not exactly the same," Usagi grumbles under her breath, and Mamoru grins.

"No, not exactly the same," he agrees, tugging her hands a bit. Then he sobers and looks at her seriously. "Tsukino Usagi, I ... I have always... loved you, too," his voice catches and she squeezes his hands tightly, as hard as she can. Before her is the same scared little boy, and she isn't going to make him continue alone.

Usagi pulls her hands from his and leaps into his arms, throwing her arms around his shoulders, feet leaving the ground as he stumbles back, returning the hug as best he can while holding her up. She peppers his face with kisses.

"I'm not going to ever leave you again, Mamo-chan," she says. "You'll never be alone again."

* * *

There is a little commotion when Mamoru and Usagi enter the schoolyard hand-in-hand.

"Chiba-sempai! We need you for...," the 1st year girl (Azusa, Usagi thinks her name is) trails off as her eyes land on their intertwined hands. Then, embarrassed, she shakes her head and distractedly continues her request to Mamoru. Koizumi comes up with a clipboard and pauses only momentarily before handing the clipboard to Mamoru with a no-nonsense attitude, ignoring the chatter and murmurs as the crowd gathers around them.

"We only have a couple hours so let's get things set," Koizumi says, and Mamoru nods.

"I'll see you later?" he says to Usagi, who nods. Mika is waiting for her at the art club booth, along with some other art club students (who look eager for gossip). As Usagi walks away, she hears Koizumi ask "Are you two... together?" And Mamoru's affirmation, and the squeal and groans of the gathered crowd. Flushing, she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, before Mika grabs her arm and pulls her into the art club booth to be interrogated there.

Minako manages to corner her later, and gather as many details as possible while squealing happily. She had pulled Ami along with her, and Usagi is eternally grateful for the calmer presence of the other girl, who just smiles kindly at Usagi's news while Minako excitedly and loudly considers future baby names.

The school festival opens to crowds, including Makoto and Rei, both of whom Usagi is thrilled to see (and she insists on painting their faces).

Minako drags Usagi over to the dunking booth, announcing loudly to all gathered that Usagi should get the first chance to dunk the class president "since she IS his girlfriend!"

The students who weren't there that morning react with surprised murmurs, and members of the local community who aren't privy to the ins and outs of Azabu Tech gossip look curiously upon the pigtailed girl who has the honor of dating the class president of such a prestigious school.

Unfortunately, Usagi wasn't lying about being a terrible throw, and misses dunking all three times. Makoto, however, has much better aim.

When Mamoru comes up, sputtering, Makoto saunters over, leans over the glass says, "Treat her right, or you know what's coming to you." But then she smiles and winks, leaving Mamoru slightly bewildered.

All in all, it's an exhausting, busy, but successful day.

Usagi finds Mamoru putting the last of the chairs away in the storage shed as the setting sun turns the sky behind the sports field a brilliant orange. Although he's changed into drier clothes, his hair is still damp from the dunk tank. When he sees her, he smiles.

"It went well!" Usagi says, rubbing at the paint she knows is splattered all over her face. "Sorry about Minako earlier..."

"That's okay," Mamoru says, his hand going to the back of the his neck sheepishly. "It was kind of nice to get the news out I guess."

"Yeah..."

"Hope you weren't too hassled," he adds.

"No, no," she says, waving her hand. "Luckily the school festival kept everyone pretty busy. It was good timing actually..."

"I wanted to tell you," he says. "I got into Keio."

She gasps. "Mamo-chan! That's great!" She runs in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his chest. "I'm so proud of you! I knew you would!"

"Heh, thanks," he says, the sheepish tone creeping back into his voice.

"And that's right here in Tokyo," she breathes out, pulling away just enough to look up at him. He takes a strand of her hair in his hand, letting it slide between his fingers dreamily.

"But you still have graduate, Odango Atama," he says finally, a smirk pulling on his lips as she scrunches up her face in annoyace.

"I plan to!" she says. "I'll have Ami to help me anyway..." she trails off, pouting a bit. "I'll miss seeing you around the halls..." For a moment she feels a lump in her throat at the thought of how different it is going to be in the new school year, with the current 3rd years gone and a new set of 1st years. Her eyes tear up despite herself.

"Don't worry, Usako," he says, his hand sliding from her hair up to brush against her cheek, "I'm not going to ever leave you again." His lips brush against hers, warm and tingly, his damp hair brushing against her forehead. She curls her hands into his t-shirt, bracing onto her tip-toes as her lips move against his, her tongue teasing his mouth just enough that he barely stifles a groan and pulls away with an admonishing look in his eyes. It is school property and he is class president after all.

But it is just a few short days until graduation and school break.

* * *

It seems so long ago that the gates of Azabu Tech had intimidated Usagi. Now, as a newly minted 2nd year, she walks down the steps with confidence, waving to Minako, Ami and her other classmates as she leaves.

As first days go, it went well, she reflects, although the school does seem a bit emptier without Mamoru. And the commute home will certainly be a lonelier without him to walk with her to the bus stop like always.

Suddenly a loud engine sound pierces the afternoon, as a motorcycle pulls up to the sidewalk alongside the exiting students. Usagi watches with curiosity that turns to surprise as the driver takes off his helmet and Mamoru grins at her.

"You got a motorcycle!" She half-exclaims, half-scolds, and he just laughs.

"I'm a college student now," he says. "And this is very convenient for getting around. Especially considering my girlfriend goes to school all the way in Azabu."

"Oh?" Usagi is eyeing the bike with slight suspicion and interest.

Mamoru produces a pink helmet and holds it out to her. "Want a ride?"

"But Mamo-chan! My reputation!" she says, pretending to be scandalized and glancing behind her at the gathering crowd of students - both new and returning. Ami looks impressed. Minako looks delighted. Some of the girls in Mamoru's former fanclub look rather green. But Usagi focuses on Minako's wink, and takes the helmet.

She climbs behind Mamoru on the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around his leather-jacket clad waist. "Where are we going?" She asks into his ear, as the starts the engine again, weaving them out into Tokyo traffic. The beach? The park? Out to eat?

He turns slightly to answer, "Keio," he shouts over the wind. "I thought I'd show you their library."

Usagi laughed, tightening her hold on Mamoru's waist. No, some things never change.


End file.
